possessory princes that they should give ample guarantees for the liberty
of Catholic worship.

There was no doubt in the mind either of Henry or of Barneveld that the
secret blows attempted by Spain at the princes were in reality aimed at
the Republic and at himself as her ally.

While the Nuncius was making these exhortations in Paris, his colleague
from Spain was authorized to propound a scheme of settlement which did
not seem deficient in humour. At any rate Henry was much diverted with
the suggestion, which was nothing less than that the decision as to the
succession to the duchies should be left to a board of arbitration
consisting of the King of Spain, the Emperor, and the King of France.
As Henry would thus be painfully placed by himself in a hopeless
minority, the only result of the scheme would be to compel him to
sanction a decision sure to be directly the reverse of his own resolve.
He was hardly such a schoolboy in politics as to listen to the proposal
except to laugh at it.

Meantime arrived from Julich, without much parade, a quiet but somewhat
pompous gentleman named Teynagel. He had formerly belonged to the
Reformed religion, but finding it more to his taste or advantage to
become privy councillor of the Emperor, he had returned to the ancient
church. He was one of the five who had accompanied the Archduke Leopold
to Julich.

That prompt undertaking having thus far succeeded so well, the warlike
bishop had now despatched Teynagel on a roving diplomatic mission.
Ostensibly he came to persuade Henry that, by the usages and laws of the
Empire, fiefs left vacant for want of heirs male were at the disposal of